


A Sky Full of Stars

by TeenageCriminalMastermind



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, So much angst, but a girl can dream, enough angst to fill a playlist with, honestly I have no idea what the finale will bring, the angst before tros
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2020-10-10 11:02:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20526950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeenageCriminalMastermind/pseuds/TeenageCriminalMastermind
Summary: After the anti-climactic confrontation on the Supremacy, Rey is left with a sense of loneliness.After his ascension to Supreme Leader, Kylo Ren is left with a sense of failure.After their narrow escape from Crait, Leia is filled with hope.





	1. Chapter 1

_ Grief is the price we pay for love._

* * *

**_In the dim lights of the Falcon, she finds comfort and safety._ **

The tiny lights sprinkled across the roof of the bunk remind her of nights on Jakku, and the dull grey interior of her surroundings is a hark back to the rusted AT-AT Rey had called home for so long. However, where she expects to feel pain and loss, she only finds warmth. She has made peace between this new, strange life and the life she left behind.

She’s taking the night shift to watch Rose, Finn having stayed by her side for most of the day. Rey studies the face of the unconscious Resistance mechanic, wondering about her life. About her family. _ If she too had someone she left behind _.

Rey wakes up to complete silence, burning scraps of red fabric raining around them as she scrambles to her feet and towards Ben. A tentative nudge with the Force assures her that he is alive but still out, and she breathes a sigh of relief before the pain takes over. Her head still throbs from the impact before, and her body aches from all its exertion. 

But the ache in her chest has nothing to do with it.

Ben lies a few feet away from her, still unconscious from the impact. His face is devoid of any negative emotion for once, and it looks for all the world that he might be asleep. _ This is maybe the only time he’s ever been at peace_, she thinks, and her heart constricts at the thought.

His lightsaber lies by his feet, and she picks up the roughly-constructed weapon, clutching it tightly in her grip, as if squeezing it would squeeze the Kylo Ren out of him. She has the chance to rid the galaxy of the First Order’s new leader.

_ But this is not my choice to make _.

So she fastens the saber at its spot on his belt and brushes the hair out of his face, muttering a phrase she had often heard on Jakku but seldom uttered herself.

And then she leaves, committing the very act she has hated people for.

She is woken up with a hand on her shoulder, and she jumps back with a sharp look in her eyes, softening as she sees a smiling Poe Dameron. “I’ll take over, okay? Leia’s asked for you, and I suppose release from watch duty will do you some good.”

She gives him a short smile, walking over to the Captain’s quarters where General Organa has been set up. Her and Chewie are in an animated discussion, the Wookie placing a large paw on the small lady’s shoulder. She knocks on the door frame, Leia beckoning her with a smile.

“There is a lot we need to discuss,” she begins, passing a thermos to her. “ and I suppose you could use some caf.” Rey unscrews the cap and takes a short gulp of the strong beverage, and it feels like her body is slowly powering up, much like the lights of the Falcon. “Chewie here told me about everything until you left.” The expression on her face is not that of a leader asking for a report, but more motherly. _ She wants to talk about Ben _. A shrill interruption tells them that an alarm has gone off in the Falcon, and Chewie takes their leave to rectify the problem.

She fiddles with the broken pieces of Skywalker’s lightsaber, unable to find a place to begin. How is she supposed to tell Leia that despite her best efforts, she failed? That her son feels so trapped in his world he sees no way out? 

“If you are not ready for this, it’s alright, Rey.” 

But _ it isn’t_. She needs someone to talk to about this, because maybe that would offer a useful solution to her situation. “I took the escape pod in the Falcon and headed for the Supremacy.” _ To him _. Leia catches the unspoken addition, a faint smile and a nod motioning her to continue. “There, I was handcuffed and taken to Snoke’s throne room. He demanded Luke’s whereabouts but I didn’t budge. He took it, Leia.” It makes her angry - she has never felt violated her in the way the old man had made her feel. When Kylo had probed her brain, it felt like someone trying to kick down a door, but someone she could stop nevertheless. When Snoke did the same, it felt like a bomb going off in her head, and there was nothing she could do to prevent that.

She sees a flash of anger on the General’s face which is quickly replaced by an understanding look. “Believe me, I know precisely what that feels like.”

“He then ordered Ben to kill me - he was so sure that he was right. That his vision would surely come to pass. He thought Ben Solo was gone for good. He could not have been more wrong,” a satisfied smile covers her face at the memory. “We then fought Snoke’s guards after he was killed.”

Leia nods, then presses a button on the side wall, the hydraulic door hissing shut. “Rey, what I am about to ask you must remain only between the two of us. I know Finn is your closest friend in the Resistance, but I implore you not to tell him this.” She nods, looking straight at Leia in wait of the question that was to follow. “Who killed Snoke?”

She considers the implications.

If she lies and puts it on herself, it makes her a hero but puts a huge bounty on this ship and anyone on it, because word will get out. If she tells the truth and it gets out, there is no doubt that the intel will somehow find its way to the First Order. _ Leia knows it can mean the difference between life and death - for both parties_.

But she also deserves the truth. “Ben did.”

The woman in front of her lets out a sigh, fingers around the cane loosening from relief. “Luke was right.”

“I don’t know, Leia,” her face falls. There was clearly no goodwill in his actions on the salt planet. “It was Kylo Ren on Crait - he didn’t hesitate when it came to blasting the mine doors.”

However, this doesn’t seem to perturb the General much. The lady has a serene smile on her face, the kind she imagines Luke might have once given his Padawans. “Rey, have you thought about exactly what would have happened if Ben left the First Order then and there?” Well, she doesn’t exactly know. What had she expected? “I had only asked him to call off the attack on the fleet,” she replies, hands clasped in her lap. Leia raises an eyebrow, and she doesn’t need to voice her thoughts to clarify what her expression might mean. “I expected that the two of us would return to the Resistance.”

“And I would have been beyond indebted to you had that come to pass - but that would have left a power vacuum at the top over there, and Armitage Hux would stop at nothing to be the one to fill it.” Suddenly, the exact meaning of Leia’s words dawned on her, and her face reddens from the embarrassment of the mistake she had almost made. Leia places a hand on her shoulder, her tone sympathetic. “You only had his and everyone else’s best interests at heart, my dear.”

“I could have killed us all,” she whispers into their surroundings, voice hollow with horror. 

“Everything has a time and place, and Ben’s return was not supposed to be then. I have hope, and you should too.” She looks down at the broken lightsaber in Rey’s lap, looking back at her. “This weapon has been through so many battles.” 

“There was a tussle for the saber, and it just split in the middle.” She doesn’t know if she wants to share the exact details of how that happened, so she keeps the knowledge to herself and leaves this at that. Mercifully, Leia doesn’t probe further, and dismisses her with a tight hug. Rey makes her way to one of the few places she is certain will not be overrun by people, and squeezes into the small space with ease. 

There is a blanket, and the pillow she made out of her old clothes from Jakku, neatly resting in the same place she had left them. She lays her head down on the soft beige mass and drapes the blanket over her body, clutching the broken halves of the saber as she curls into herself. The act makes her feel safe, and it temporarily erases the growing ache in her chest. She’s a little angry at herself for being so affected by someone she barely knew.

He had stood there, told her to leave behind everything she loved and valued for what? An illusion? She had been sensible enough not to follow that pipe dream.

_And besides, our relationship - whatever it is - has only existed for a week_. 

It had started with days of pure anger and hatred. Those were followed by a few hours of understanding, a couple of minutes of realisation, seconds of burgeoning hope and compassion, and a shining moment of love. 

And now all they are followed by is a forever of loneliness, disappointment and regret.

_They were only seconds of hope and compassion_, she tells herself over and over. And besides, she has had a lifetime’s worth of experience in loneliness and disappointment. How hard can it be to live with those?

_It’s the regret that stings so much_, she realises as hot tears roll down her face in the dark. 

* * *

**_Failure is his only constant_**.

Jedi must not have attachments, he was told. And he had thought the task to be easy - after all, how hard is it to let go, when you have barely had anything to hold onto? But he failed at that.

His first major failure cost Ben Solo his family.

Killing Han Solo was supposed to successfully eradicate whatever light remained in him, finally uniting him with the darkness he so desperately chased. But he failed, again.

This one cost Kylo Ren his success.

And he was never good with words - while his script was elegant and flowing, his thoughts were just as mangled and stilted. It frustrates him to the ends of the galaxy that he never overcame that hurdle.

That failure cost him Rey.

He is still on his knees in that dilapidated ancient mine, holding the shattered remains of his connection to her in a death grip, afraid to let go. The dice are gone, much like the woman who put them here in the first place.

The woman who ruined him.

Rey’s entry in his life had spelled nothing good for him - her power had made his former master dangerously re-evaluate his usefulness, her closeness to his family rubbing his inadequacies in his face, and whatever sympathy she had planted for herself in his heart had delayed him from following the Falcon and blasting it into oblivion, ensuring the survival of the pesky Resistance.

_But she has had her pros_.

Without her, he would not have gained his freedom and his power - he is not too proud to admit that he owes his position as Supreme Leader to her. Without her, taking out Snoke and his guards was just a far-away fantasy he would fruitlessly keep indulging in.

Now, he has the power to finish what his grandfather started.

He will bring the galaxy under his unified rule, and that scavenger-turned-Jedi will not be what stops him. Kylo Ren will have his victory over the Resistance. Kylo Ren will be remembered as the man who finally brought unity and peace to the galaxy.

But whatever remains of Ben Solo’s conscience and personality sneers at him and scoffs at Kylo’s achievements. _ They are all hollow victories_, the nagging voice tells him.

_You murdered your father_, it taunts. _ The only man with the courage to tell you the truth_.

_You ended your uncle, _ it goes ahead, growing louder. _ Who still forgave you despite everything that happened. Who admitted his wrongs_. 

_You lost your mother_, it reaches a crescendo. _ Who wanted to save your soul till the end._

_And you pushed Rey away_, it says quietly with pain, _ the only person who truly cared about you, who was ready to accept every part of you_.

_So what do you really have, Kylo Ren?_

The answer lies in his clenched fist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read and comment, guys!


	2. Chapter 2

_ I desire the things that will destroy me in the end. _

* * *

** _Hollow victories_ ** .

The First Order is all smiles and congratulations towards him, some out of genuine admiration, most out of fear. He is their new Supreme Leader, and his losses are theirs. So are his victories. But that phrase had been echoing in his head since their departure from Crait, and Kylo wants nothing better than to just extinguish every sound in his head. Force knows he’s tried that since birth, to no avail. 

Two voices, however, are prominently absent.

Snoke’s insinuating croak is out of his brain for good, and he’s thankful that he’ll never have to worry about what he thinks again. This feeling of freedom is intoxicating - the freedom to think precisely what he wants without straining to protect said thoughts in the first place takes away half of the causes of his headaches.  _ The rest will either be dealt with medically or force-choked into silence _ .

But the absence of Rey’s quiet, clear voice is one that gnaws at his insides. 

In those few days, he had grown accustomed to her suddenly materialising in front of him - she is either throwing accusations in his face or doing something he happened to be then intruding on.  _ And she loves to keep busy _ . 

He’s seen her help the fluffy chicken like birds with their nests, clear the Falcon of said chicken birds, clean her hut twice, clean her blaster inside out, not to mention polish and clean her staff at least twice a day. On some occasions, he’ll catch her doing something utterly mundane or plain weird - dancing in the rain, for one. The juvenility of the memory makes him scoff, before realising that the poor thing had probably never seen water in such quantities, forget it falling with such reckless abandon. 

_ Not before Takodana, for sure _ .

The memory is an unpleasant jolt - he is supposed to hate her, and nothing else. She is an enemy of the Order and if he needs to terminate her existence, he will.

_ Are we going to start lying to ourselves now? _

His inner voice really needs to learn to keep its trap shut. 

He arrives at his quarters, the door swiftly shutting behind him as he collapses in a chair, the stress of the day catching up. His eyelids are like heavy doors, and a few minutes pass until they are threatening to drop dead, when the scene in front of him shakes him out of his stupor.

In front of him are the sacred Jedi texts, the one Skywalker so fiercely protected and hid from him and Snoke. And sitting in front of them with an arm resting on the pile is Rey.  She is hunched over one of them, consulting a hastily scrawled-upon piece of paper before she turns back to the book, practically sticking her nose into the text before she puts it down, dust flying around as she does so. She raises a hand to rub her face, straining to understand the text before slumping in frustration, turning to look up at him. Her face is dull with exhaustion and streaked with tears, and he can tell by the slowly dawning resignation on her face that no, this contact wasn’t initiated by her. 

“For Force’s sake, Kylo, I don’t want to listen to your complaints right now.” She sounds too tired to be angry at him but leans a little forward to squint at his face before leaning back, rubbing her eyes like a child. “And since you don’t look too good, I’m guessing you didn’t start this.”  He nods, head swimming a little - when was the last time he ate or slept?

She doesn’t look too good either, eyes falling shut and head rocking forward before she snaps back awake.

“I’ll leave you to your pursuits,” he mumbles, shutting his eyes and hoping that sleep takes him as soon as possible. But minutes pass, and while his eyes crave the rest they so clearly need, his brain is another story, and he opens his eyes to see Rey’s Force apparition asleep on the ground. Kylo takes a quiet, tentative step, observing her to ensure that she’s still asleep, and then picks up the blanket that’s half on her legs to cover her entire body with it. He goes back to his chair, sinking into the soft material as he watches the tiny woman sleep, her breath coming out in little puffs as she curls further into herself.

He knows by experience how cold the ship’s floor gets in space, especially in areas close to the hyperdrive, and a small part of him is worried that she’ll contract some illness.  _ Whose Force effects I might have to bear being the only reason why I’m so worried _ , he assures himself.

_ I’m supposed to hate her _ , he reminds himself as his muscles relax and his heartbeat slows.  _ It should not be so damn difficult _ .

* * *

** _She wagers he doesn’t always sleep in a chair_ ** .

Rey hasn’t seen it, but she guesses Kylo possesses a bed and usually sleeps in that,  _ not that she’s ever seen him ever do that _ . Last she saw, the man was nodding off in a plush armchair, half sunk in sleep and in the material of said chair.  Snoke had created this Force-bond, and now that he’s dead and gone, she expected this to depart with him as well. But if Crait and the previous night weren’t hallucinations, then that connection is thriving and very much their own. Should they not be able to control it, then?

Unless he was lying and very much wanted to see her the previous night. 

But if memory serves her right, neither Kylo Ren nor Ben Solo has ever lied to her. And given the state she saw him in, Rey doubts the man would have the energy to do so. It saddens her a little to know that one of the few people who have always been sincere with her include the man who wants her friends dead. But right now, these pesky texts require her every attention. 

Not only does she need their knowledge to repair the broken saber, but hidden in those dusty pages are the ways and ideology of the Jedi Order  _ and hopefully instructions to sever this bond,  _ because a part of her finds it a little too painful to continue whatever this is.

They’re clearly over a thousand years old and steeped in knowledge, not to mention steeped in the Force as well. The books almost hum a little in her hands, the energy of the Uneti tree they had been in flowing through her as she picks them up. The letters look similar to Galactic Basic, but substitution has given her no useful results. “3PO,” she calls the droid over, pointing at one of the open texts, “do you recognise these? They look similar to Basic, but using that doesn’t seem to make any sense.”

The droid’s face seems to light up, and he starts babbling about the many languages he’s fluent in and the history of basic’s evolution, but there isn’t anything useful in his words, so Rey interrupts him. “Can you translate this?” She hands the book to him, and he stares at the pages for quite a while before carefully giving it back to her. 

“I’m afraid not, Miss. Of all the languages programmed in me, not a single data vault contains an archive for a script this archaic and outdated. Curse my memory board for not getting a history upgrade!” They’re about to make planetfall in a few hours on a planet only the General and Chewie know of, so she decides to go talk to Finn. 

“Any progress?” 

Finn’s red-rimmed eyes are a clear indication he has not had a shift relief. He shakes his head, shoulders drooping, and Rey squeezes his shoulder, offering a supporting smile along with it. 

“She’ll be fine - I can feel it.” She can feel her presence, faint as it is in the Force, and she knows for a fact that even though she’s out of action, she isn’t gone beyond their reach.

“Rose doesn’t have the Force,” Finn looks up at her, his face showing the doubt he has in his own words, and Rey smiles a little, thinking back to her own previous lack of knowledge about something she possesses in such measures. 

“Not in the way I do, no,” Rey clarifies. “But everyone has the Force. It’s not like some sort of special power,” she explains, “much more of an energy that binds everything and everyone in the universe to each other. It’s just that some people have more of it than others, and they can do things.” 

“Like lift giant rocks,” he gives her an appreciative smile as he speaks. 

“Like lift giant rocks, yeah.” She chuckles, putting a hand on his. “I’ve missed having you around me - it was nice to have someone with me who was as clueless as I was.” His eyebrows rise in mock offense, and he playfully smacks her arm. 

“I missed you too, Rey. It was quite a shock, waking up and seeing that you were gone. I had begun to think that he’d taken you on Starkiller before Poe told me exactly where you had gone to.”  _ It comes back to him again _ . “But we had faith in you - you convinced Skywalker to come with you and help us in our most desperate hour.” Except the second part wasn’t possible - she had seen Luke’s X-Wing in shambles underwater, and it could not have flown in any shape or form possible. The only explanation was that the Resistance was saved by his Force projection. 

It is then when Chewie drops in, his roar signaling her to come to the Falcon’s cockpit, and she follows him to her seat, where he enters the coordinates to their new base. He roars once more, and Rey punches them out of hyperspace, the familiar swirling blue giving way to blinding lines of radiation. Once it clears, she can see the greenish-white planet underneath them -  _ the new home of the Resistance _ . 

A few minutes later, the remainder of the Resistance spills onto the planet, and whatever remains of the organisational staff is trying to give some form of method to the vagueness of whatever it is they’re doing. They are soon greeted by an on-ground medical staff which rushes to the Falcon, stretcher in tow. Last to greet them is an old lady, looking weathered by both time and experience - she reminds Rey of the older dealers and scavengers on Jakku, with faces that have seen more of life than she can imagine. 

Leia strides over to the woman, engulfing her in a one-arm hug as the older lady places a hand on the general’s head. The latter signals her to approach them, and she walks over to the two ladies. “Mon, this is Rey.” Mon, whose white hair still has streaks of copper left, gives her a curt nod. “Rey, this is Mon Mothma, former chancellor of the New Republic, leader of the Rebellion, and one sturdy 80 year old.” 

She returns the gesture and nods respectfully at the taller woman, unsure of what to do next.

“Walk with us,” Mon Mothma speaks, her voice surprisingly strong for someone her age, and Rey follows the former chancellor’s lead as they head to the small collection of buildings not so far away. “I understand you are the only remaining Jedi in the galaxy now.” Rey answers this with a nod, clutching the texts tightly in her arms. “I have also been informed that the First Order leadership has recently undergone a shakeup due to unexpected developments.” 

Another nod. 

They reach a door that quickly shuts behind them, the three of them standing in what looks like a conference room. “We will not discuss the particulars of what happened - for the sake of all who are involved - but I cannot say that it isn’t good news. I had known Brendol Hux for ages, and I can wager just how his son might have turned out. He and Kylo Ren will not meld, and if he is any bit like his father, then Armitage Hux will more than just clash heads with the new Supreme Leader.”  She listens to what the two women discuss, but nothing really sticks in her brain, and she knows her tiredness has begun to show when Leia smiles and dismisses her from the room, ordering her to get as much rest as she can. 

A guard standing outside their room shows her to her quarters, which are stocked with a proper bed, bedding and  _ too many toiletries _ , in her opinion. “Dinner will be in an hour in the mess hall,” he informs her with a pleasant expression and then takes his leave. She sits down on the firm but comfortable bed and opens one of the texts, closing her eyes as she takes in a deep breath.

Only to open them to the face of Kylo Ren.


	3. Chapter 3

_ For everything you gain, you lose something else. _

* * *

** _“Can you not control this?” _ **

Rey is more than eager to point out to him that he, with his extended training in both the Light and Dark Side, should possess more insight than her as to how to deal with this and should not be asking her, a barely-trained scavenger-turned-Jedi.

“If I could, I would have cut contact long ago, Jedi.” He spits out the last word with venom, his previously dull eyes flaring up with anger. 

“Scavenger would have made for a more stinging insult, you know,” she quips, settling down by sitting cross legged on the bed. His eyes are bloodshot, cheeks looking even more sunken than before - like someone sapped all the energy and nutrition out of him in one night alone. 

“Your origins are not an insulting part of your persona,” he huffs, setting down the pen in his hand.  _ So he meant it _ . Kylo apparently catches that thought, because while he doesn’t say anything, his dour expression gives way to concern seeing her fallen face. She had convinced herself to believe that his words were only a ploy to get a powerful Force user onto his side, that he couldn’t possibly care for her enough after hating her for so long. 

_ I couldn’t possibly believe he was sincere when he said I mattered - it just didn’t add up in my head _ .

“So you thought I lied to you,” his voice is flat, but she can detect the hurt in it. “That I only did it because I stood to gain from the transaction.” She looks up to meet his eyes and can see the pain on his face, voice laden with offense. “That I  ** _manipulated_ ** you.” Kylo doesn’t say the rest out loud, but she hears it clear as day in his thoughts anyways.

_ Like Snoke _ . 

“I haven’t exactly given you cause to believe otherwise,” he mutters, a bitter laugh following his words.

“That was not what I meant,” she rushes her words. “Ben, I -” The Force, however, decides that their conversation would be better left off unfinished, and he leaves her with another aspect of their bond to ponder over - an aspect that was quickly growing too painful to examine. 

_ If you cared for someone, how could you stand destroying them? _

* * *

** _Hux suggested Coruscant_ ** .

As the new Supreme Leader of the First Order, Kylo’s coronation was imminent. Hux wanted it to be a public spectacle, “to show the Galaxy the face of its prosperity and fortune”, in his words. 

And he? From childhood into adulthood, his loathing for parties has never lessened.

In childhood, they were sources of annoyance and occasionally misery, serving as events that would somehow always turn into his parents and him being paraded in a circle of people that they had either never met, or would never voluntarily choose to interact with. 

During teenage, they only fueled his ever growing discontent towards his parents - his mother was busy in Accords Galas every single birthday, and his father could never resist the allure of an open bar and the chance to be Han Solo, roguish hero, once again. Whenever Luke would allow him to send a holomessage, LC would reply with a curt “thank you” and a promise to forward it to Generals Organa and Solo as soon as their schedules would allow,  _ which was just about never _ . And now? He hates the artifice these events reek of, not to mention the way people gawk at him wherever he goes. 

“So, Supreme Leader, will it be Imperial City?” Hux draws him out of that train of thought and to the issue at hand, a smug smirk plastered on his face. 

He flips through the file lying in front of him before verbally affirming his choice and handing the file over to Mitaka. The latter gives him a quick nod before scurrying off behind Hux, and Kylo shuts himself in his quarters before beginning with the growing pile of paperwork on the holopad on his desk. 

There are mining expansion plans, a permit for building a second Starkiller (which he will never sign, the ginger’s zealous determination be damned), and an order for expansion of the First Order’s fleet. He may be unaware of their financial state, but he will not be a figurehead that Hux gets to abuse, and Kylo sends a message off to Mitaka to forward him the most recent copy of the First Order accounts. His previous interaction with Rey wasn’t fruitless; it would have made him glad if it were.  _ To have her accuse me of manipulating her emotions - _

_ You killed your master, only to usurp his position, and launched a frontal attack on that ragtag group of insurgents she considers friends - no reason for her to doubt you at all _ . 

There it was again - his pesky, self-righteous conscience, which had found new life after the events on Crait. It reeked of Leia Organa’s righteousness and Han Solo’s snark, and Kylo was finding it hard to keep Ben Solo’s taunting words out of his head.

“Ben Solo is dead,” he speaks through gritted teeth, as if the words will cower it into silence.

_ Not to his father, or his mother, and  _ ** _certainly _ ** _ not to Rey _ .

“Quiet!” The pen in his right hand misses its intended mark and simply grazes the side of his other hand, leaving a trail of red in its wake. 

It gives him something to focus on, and Kylo uses the smarting pain in his hand to power through the military expenditure section of the accounts. Midway through this, Mitaka arrives with a holopad, sparing a nervous glance at his injured hand before he speaks. 

“Supreme Leader, our spies have provided intel that the Resistance were last seen coming out of hyperspace in the Inner Sector. The Millennium Falcon quickly made another jump, but given their estimated fuel reserves, they are headed somewhere towards the Core Worlds and/or their colonies.”

_ Finally, something useful _ . 

“Get General Hux.”

* * *

** _Attention is an uncomfortable thing_ ** .

As soon as she sets foot in the mess hall, all chatter seems to cease. Heads swivel slowly in her direction, and Rey ducks her head and tries to disappear in the queue for food. That awkward moment lasts only for a few seconds before everyone goes back to what they were doing, and she exhales a sigh of relief. 

“You did save all our lives.” A petite woman with her blond hair in two buns hands her a tray. “Kaydel Ko Connix - I served under Ackbar and the others.”

“I heard.” The line moves pretty quickly, and they are only three people away from receiving their meal for the day. “I’m sorry.” 

“They were good people,” Connix adds as they reach the servers, a smiling trio that spoons in stew, puts a piece of bread and then puts a small cup of something brown. The food smells better than anything she’s ever eaten before,  _ better than the stuff at Maz’s too _ , and her mouth begins to water slightly. 

She begins to head to a table - Connix follows for a while before she taps on her shoulder. “You’re always welcome to sit with us, if you like,” Her smile is genuine, and Rey looks at the table she is pointing at - Poe and a few others she’s seen before are sitting there, and the former waves at her enthusiastically.

“I’d love to.” This elicits a grin from Connix and they go and take their seats at the table, which is a hub of chatter. Rey digs into her own food, sighing contentedly as the stew hits her mouth.

“Jessika Pava,” a bright-eyed brunette extends a hand, the other wrapped in a cast. “It’s great to finally have a chance to speak to you.” At her expression, Pava laughs and eats a spoonful of the stew before speaking. “You’re a great pilot, and an equally good mechanic - I don’t really have much interest in the Jedi stuff. Also, just call me Jess - Pava is when people are mad at me.”

“You idolise Luke Skywalker, Jess” one of the men speaks up, his tone playfully accusatory, “Snap Wexley here.”

“Because he was an ace pilot and a pretty good mechanic too! She’s basically Luke Skywalker when he was young - she’s the last Jedi, she’s from a desert planet, and she’s a great pilot and mechanic,” Jess offers as defense. Poe interjects with a joke, and the table laughs collectively before they go back to eating.

As she leaves the mess hall with promises to meet up with Jess and Kaydel in the hangar for maintenance sessions, Rey can’t help but feel that maybe, she’s found home.

* * *

** _This has begun to feel like a waste of time_ ** .

The primary purpose of this joint meeting with the generals was to come up with a plan to find and successfully eliminate the Resistance, but it has devolved into nothing but a finger-pointing session. 

Frankly, they are all getting on his nerves and the best suggestion they can all have is to shut up and let him take the reins.  _ And I would gladly shut them up as well _ , if he wasn’t trying so hard to look like a reasonable man in control of his anger. But General Enwo has been doing nothing but complaining about how the leadership so far has been ignoring the real issues and focusing on “mystical pursuits that serve no purpose to the Order”.

_ Fuck it _ .

He raises a hand, fingers curling in the air as Enwo chokes on air, his hands clawing at his collar as Kylo stares stone-faced at the man. 

“The mystical pursuits you refer to with such disdain have resulted in the elimination of Luke Skywalker. I have killed the last Jedi, and I suggest that everyone,” he looks around, daring any of them to challenge him, “focus on the present. The actions of the past belong there - the future of the Order is here, and I want all of you to concentrate on that. Find the Resistance, and give them the swift death Luke Skywalker so desired.”

He releases the man, Enwo falling to the table like a fish out of water, and rises from his seat to leave. “This meeting is over - General Hux, if you would follow me.” The ginger quickly rises from his seat to fall in step with him, a sombre look upon his face. 

“Supreme Leader, I apologise for their completely unprofessional and juvenile behaviour -” He has no interest in the man’s apologies. 

“Fire Enwo and the others - keep Canady. Find me a new set of Generals. And get me the location of the Resistance.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (are there clone wars quotes before every chapter now? maybe)

_ Easy is the path to wisdom for those not blinded by ego._

** _Of all the things before hitting the bed, she was not expecting that_**.

Just out of the fresher, Rey is busy drying her hair by the vents when a croaky, high-pitched laugh puts her senses on high alert, and she lunges for her staff - which is not there - _ because I left it on Ahch-To_.

“Need more I, that stick you seek,” the intruder speaks, and Rey turns to see the Force form of a small green alien who is not quite human, his giggles shaking his tiny hunched frame. Somehow despite all the less than sane behaviour, he doesn’t seem threatening.

She crouches down to his level, loosening her body to come off as less aggressive than before. “Who are you?” 

The individual in question laughs again - much like those weird, drunk men on Jakku who didn’t mean harm but were always shady - and taps his ghostly cane against the floor. “Who you are, the real question is?” _ Not to mention the backwards way of speaking_.

“I’m Rey,” she offers as a starter. Maybe volunteering information bit by bit might get her somewhere. The apparition seems to regard her, its face settling into an expression with a lot less levity. 

“Jedi Master, I am - trained few like you, I have.” She breathes a sigh of relief, silently thanking the Force for this unexpected help sent her way. “Help you with those, I will,” it points to the Jedi texts, seemingly hearing her mental remarks.

“Thank you so much, Master. No one has been able to decipher these - the alphabet is too old, and I have no clue what they could possibly say.”

“Return I shall, when the time right is,” is all he offers for a reply before vanishing, leaving Rey with even less of a clue than she began with.

“I suppose Yoda was the usual amount of nonsense with the occasional nugget of wisdom.” She has barely turned her head, only to whip it back to look at the new visitor. This individual is old, human and _ very tired looking_, she notes, looking upon her with a curious air. “Obi-Wan Kenobi - I am Luke’s former Master.”

“You trained Luke Skywalker?” He looks like he might be a lot more help than that Yoda, so Rey picks up the stack of books and strides over to the Force Ghost, putting them on the bed beside him. “I need help with these texts - they’re written in Galactic much older than Basic, and so far I have had no luck in deciphering even the tiniest bit of them.” 

A confused look settles upon his face before recognition kicks in. “Are these the sacred texts, child?” She nods eagerly, flipping open the topmost to show him its contents. Obi-Wan Kenobi looks long and hard at the open page before his eyebrows furrow, a hand reaching to stroke his luminous beard.

“I don’t understand the alphabet, but maybe I can assist you with something else in these.” She flips to a symbol she can feel is associated with the Jedi, but doesn’t know exactly how and why. Kenobi’s eyes light up, his face alert. “This is the symbol of the Prime Jedi - the Prime Jedi were the very first beings endowed with the Force the way we are, equal in both the dark and light in them.” The flicker of knowledge on his face gives way to defeat. “I would have directed you to the Archives on Coruscant, but they are gone. The Ancient Texts were lost long before I was born - it must have taken Luke years to find these, and not without copious help from the Force.”

Her shoulders slump in defeat - _ but all is not lost_. She learnt something, even if it was just the explanation behind a symbol. “Is there someone, anyone, who would possibly know how to read and decode these?”

“Yoda would be my best wager - he has trained Jedi for well over 800 years and himself is close to a millennium old. He must know the alphabet, and he might very well have the exact answers you are seeking. Luke was the other, but he seems to have become one with the Force. I can’t say with certainty if he had passed them down to any of his padawans.”

There is another question she has, but voicing it might raise questions she might not want the answers to. But Rey decides to go for it anyways - _ it’s only for the best_. “What do you know of Force Bonds, Master Kenobi?”

The question seems to pique his interest, and he leans forward. “Force Bonds are quite rare, and usually created either by extensive effort or by a powerful accident.” The look on his face seems to ask as to where this inquiry stems from, but he mercifully does not go down that path. “They’re deeply personal things, force bonds - they grant their owners knowledge of the other intimate enough to be only rivaled by the person themself, sometimes even more. It’s the closest you can get to seeing someone’s soul.” 

The last sentence ignites a tiny spark of hope - _ I saw his soul, and it is not as damaged as he sees it to be_. But it is how he sees himself which is the greatest obstacle, one of the hurdles that is forcing her to cut this connection between them - a connection that if he keeps continuing down the path he is, will lead to only ruin for her. “Can they be broken?” 

He considers this. “Yes. Force bonds, like any connection, can be severed - but by no means is it an easy process. You would require a very strong emotional reason to separate yourself from your force partner - coming to fully hate them can be one of them.” _ That shouldn’t be hard if he continues down his current path_, she thinks ruefully. “The only other way to break the bond is death.”

“Once free of the bond,” Obi-Wan continues, “in either case, the survivor will be left incomplete - it will be like someone tore away a piece of you. There will always be an emptiness.” _ He seems to speak from experience_, Rey muses, but decides not to pry - mostly because it might be too sore a topic to broach, but also to avoid questioning herself.

“Thank you, Master Kenobi, for all your help.” The man offers her a welcoming smile, choosing that moment to depart, and the fear that her previous cluelessness had brought has decreased a bit, now that she has somewhere to start. 

Today’s discoveries and conversations were enough work for the day, and Rey decides to lay down on the comfortable mattress, letting sleep claim her.

* * *

** _The Force needs a better scheduling system_**.

Kylo had been praying to Vader’s helmet for a good first part of his apprenticeship, and now that he’s finally ready to let go of the molten, charred remnant does the Force decide to answer his months-old prayer, and Anakin Skywalker materialises in all his glory right when he’s about to hit the sack. 

“You inherited my decision-making skills, I see,” the man quips. He looks a lot younger than he was before he died, a man much closer to his own age. There is a scar above his left eye, and Anakin’s tousled dirty blonde hair falls in waves to his shoulder, much like his own.

Kylo is too much in shock and confusion to formulate a useful question to ask his grandfather - he had been hoping for a black-clad semi-cyborg to offer useful tips on conquering a galaxy, but the very-much human apparition in front of him looks more disappointed than proud in his grandson’s career choices. 

“And the height - thank Force you got my height, because your grandmother, mother and uncle were a little too tiny for my liking. And you got my built, my piloting skills, and Amidala hair, yet they named you after that old bat Kenobi.” 

“Grandfather,” is all he manages to eke out, staring at the man who looks nothing like him, yet looking at him feels like staring into a slightly distorted mirror. Anakin sighs, the two standing in silence for a while, neither of the two knowing how to further their conversation. “Where do we start, hmm?”

“I prayed to you, every day, despite the silence on your end.” his voice cracks at the middle, and Kylo is annoyed at how his past still affects him to this degree - _ I was past this_. 

“You prayed to Darth Vader. Vader is dead, and Vader is gone.”

_ Just like the past should be_. “Then I suppose there is nothing further to discuss,” he brusquely answers, steeling himself against showing any more weakness. 

“Seriously?” Anakin’s voice is heavy with sardonicism, arms crossed as he raises an eyebrow at him. “You keep up Jedi-levels of religious fanaticism regarding a charred hunk of metal, and now suddenly we’re too good and learned to even talk to said target of worship?”

“I needed Vader.”

“No one ** _needs_ ** Vader, kid - not Darth Sidious, not the galaxy, and neither do you.” The dismissal in his voice angers him a little - how can he regard part of himself so little, and why would he go through all the effort and pain if no one needed him any way? His grandfather is also seemingly adept at reading thoughts, because the nonchalance on his face is replaced by pitying sadness. “Why did you, Ben? Doesn’t seem like your master needed you much either. So why did you go through all this self-destruction to become someone no one needs?”

Kylo bristles at the use of his birth name, and the other man’s words sting him as much as any rebuke by Snoke had. He looks back at Anakin, eyes flashing. “The galaxy needs its Supreme Leader. It needs Kylo Ren in a way it never needed Darth Vader.”

“Is that who you truly are?” He looks more tired than defeated, as if Kylo is a toddler not quite grasping a rather simple concept. “A bogeyman in a mask? Attack dog turned administrator?”

“I am the Supreme Leader of the First Order!” He practically yells, fists curled into themselves. “The Chief Commander of an armada thrice the size of the Empire, with firepower enough to end the galaxy if I wish. I am the head of an organisation that will bring true peace and unity to the Galaxy - that will finish what you never did!” If Skywalker is fazed by his outburst, it certainly doesn’t show. Instead, the man rises from his perch on the bench. “I could deliver a sermon on why my life choices are a huge ‘do not’ list to you, but our present conversation has shown how much of my stubborn mindset is ingrained in your personality. And lecturing never got the point across with me.” Kylo doesn’t meet his eyes, but his grandfather’s sigh gives away the hurt. “I can’t watch you go down the same road as me anymore.” 

“Then why didn’t you try helping earlier?” He is surprised by the tremble in his own voice, mouth quivering as every dark memory passes through his mind like a macabre holovid.

“I never thought that the goodness in my children would fail to protect you, Ben.” There are too many emotions he has buried behind that particular door, so he doesn’t trust himself to reply to that statement. His grandfather looks like he wants to say something else, but he apparently decides against it and settles for something not as difficult to voice. 

“I hope you’ll forgive me.” 

For what, he isn’t sure.


End file.
